Want Ads
by FictionHobbit
Summary: Fed up with their romantic situations, a bunch of friends working in a shirtwaist factory put ads in the New York World for men... who answers these ads? *smirk* I live for approval so if you could press the purple button i'll be eternally greatful
1. Default Chapter

*Want Ads*  
  
~*Prologue*~  
  
  
  
Cursing softly Rae sucked the end of her finger which had begun to bleed slightly after it slipped under the needle in the sewing machine at the Shirtwaist Factory. She had been working since five in the morning, eleven hours ago, without a break. This was just another day for her and her friends. They all worked in the factory together. "Finally!" she sighed as the bell rang signaling the end of that shift. Dropping the piece of cloth she was working on in the finished pile and stretching as she stood, Rae looked around for her friends who were working their way to the exit. Quickly the group converged outside. "Heya, ladies!" she greeted them tiredly, sitting against the wall outside the factory, taking her hair out of the bun and kneading her neck muscles.  
  
"How can you be so perky?" Singah asked, smiling at Rae and sitting beside her against the wall. Singah was not able to go home that night because she had to be at Medda's for work in an hour until three the next morning.  
  
Rolling her eyes Rae answered with a grin, "Years of faking it". Dearbhail bit her tongue to keep a comment from leaving her lips. "Good. You're learning self control!" Rae noticed her friend's eyes when she responded. Dearbhail stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes. Even though she had only arrived from Ireland a month ago, the other girls had accepted her into their little group.  
  
Checking her watch, Lashes stood up. "Alright I need to get to the library before it closes. You should get to work, Singah. Medda would be on your tail again," she warned her friend. The two were pretty much inseparable, even though they were as different as night and day. Lashes was quiet and reserved while Singah… wasn't.  
  
"Yes, mother," Singah laughed, winking at Lashes and heading off down the alley towards Meddah's. Lashes went in the opposite direction, towards the New York Library her arms toting a few books she needed to return.  
  
"Alright Blaze, you still owe me a rematch. I need to earn my money back. Seven card stud. Deuces and Jacks wild. Who's in?" another girl spoke up after Lashes and Singah had disappeared, she turned over a crate and sat behind it. Blaze smirked sitting on Half-Pint's right, fighting a laugh, knowing Half-Pint was just going to give up more of her money. Rae and Duchess took up the other sides of the crate and retrieved their meager pouches of money, waiting for Half-Pint to deal. Since Moth was saving up for a hat she saw in a store near her place she decided to watch. Dearbhail shrugged and watched the other end of the alley.  
  
"Oscar should be picking me up some time soon. I shouldn't start a game", She reasoned aloud, to no one in particular. This was met with five groans of disapproval. "What? He's an alright guy," she defended him. The five girls went back to the card game so as not to start an argument. "He's better than nothing. There he is now. Bye girls!" a wide grin, which didn't reach her eyes, spread across her face as the man in question ambled into the alley. The two left with another word to the girls who just continued their game. 


	2. Blink and Moth

~*~Want Ads~*~  
  
~*~Chapter 1- Blink~*~  
  
"Coppers break up love nest on East Side! Bloody brawl ensues!" Blink hollered, standing on a bench near the fountain in the middle of Central Park. "T'ank yeh, sir. Page eleven," he smiled charmingly, pocketing the money that the older gentleman handed him for his paper. Blink felt some one's eyes on him as he hawked his wares loudly. When he only had one left, he spotted her.  
  
She stood pretty tall, at least 5'10 it looked like from where Blink stood. Her hair was longish, blond, and very pretty. Blink found himself wondering what it felt like to run his hands through it. She had a slim build. She wasn't stick thin, Thank God Blink thought as he approached. Flashing his trademark grin, Blink tapped the young woman on the shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as she turned her eyes on him. 'What color is that? She's like some sort of Goddess or somethin'. I don't have a chance,' his mind ran a mile a minute as he continued to stare at her.  
  
"I got somethin' in my teeth?" she smiled shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes sparkled in the sun. They were impossibly violet.  
  
Finding his voice, Blink folded up a paper and offered it to her. "Buy a pape?" he grinned at her again. 'They're poiple? Not a chance Boy. Calm down' he chastised himself, waiting for her to answer him.  
  
Reaching into her pocket, the young woman pulled out piece of lint. Frowning she met his gaze. "Sorry," she hung her head and started to walk away. He stopped her by, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned back around. "Was there something else?" she asked quietly, truly embarrassed.  
  
"Tell me your name you can have the pape," he winked, offering the paper again.  
  
Laughing she walked away again.  
  
'Stupid joik! Girls like that don't fall for tricks like dat,' he continued to chastise himself, walking back to the Manhattan Lodging House, the sun was already dipping low in the horizon. 


	3. Bumlets and Blaze

~*~Want Ads~*~  
  
~*~Chapter 2-Bumlets~*~  
  
That same day, Bumlets and Snipeshooter found their way to 42nd Street. "How'd we end up in da hoity-toity part a town, Bum? Hello- Bumlets? Ya heah me? En Garde!" Sniopeshooter rattled on, realizing he might as well had been talking to himself. Getting fed up with being ignored; Snipeshooter held up a broken mop handle like a sword and challenged his friend.  
  
Laughing, Bumlets met the mop with his walking stick and shouted, "Touche!". The pair performed acrobatic feats off of the sides of buildings and each others as people began to swarm around to watch them. They had sold a good sixty in the first hour. Unfortunately for them, a theater owner didn't appreciate having competition from street rats for an audience. A police whistle broke up their revelry. Cheese it! It's da bulls! Seeya at Tibby's!" Snipeshooter hollered, running in the opsite direction as Bumlets flipped and spun off a flight of stairs.  
  
The police whistle sounded again; closer this time. This brought Bumlets crashing back into reality. Cursing loudly, he set his knaki newsies cap on his head and took off.  
  
Halfway between the spot the police had seen him and Tibby's Bumlets collided with something that yelped and fell as he continued on. Looking back he saw a girl around his age glaring at himangrily as she picked herself back up, running in the other direction. Intrigued, Bumlets turned around and caught the struggling girl. The two continued to run, hand in hand. "What da Hell are you doin' Da bulls are after me! Let me go before I'll bite you!" she continued to struggle against the iron grip he held her hand in.  
  
With Tibby's in sight, Bumlets released her hand to take her elbow and pull her into the alley next to Tibby's where they caught their breath. "What're you'se hollerin' an' carryin' on fer?" he asked, a corner of his mouth inching up in a crooked smile. His eyes carefully took in the sight before him.  
  
Unfazed by the, admittedly, extremely handsome eyes peering at her, the girl answered or tried. They were interrupted by another police whistle, this time accompanied by horses. Without another thought the pair sprang out of the alley and into another.  
  
"Dey's aftah me! Dey're aftah you?" they spoke at the same time, smiled, and laughed as the danger passed. The silence was broken only by the low rumble of her stomach answered by his. "Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do… Seein' as I'se nearly ran over you'se oiliah," Bumlets offered, flashing a dimpled grin.  
  
"I guess I can do lunch. But you gotta let me help ya sell the afternoon paper I won't take 'no' for an answer," she replied, letting him hold the door into Tibby's open for her. "Uht oh. Watch out a gentleman is in the room," she teased, sitting in a booth near the back.  
  
"Where ya been? I gave you'se up tad a bulls. Oh wait, I's gotcha. Slick moves, ya Bum! See if you have a place in line at Weasel's saved," a boy around thirteen with curly hair yelled as Bumlets sat on the other side of the booth. Bumlets' face appeared as if he wanted the earth to swallow him up as the waiter came over to retireve their order. Both were too hungry to say much.  
  
Slurping down the last of his soup the young man stood, looking expectantly at his guest. "If we wan' a good spot in line… we should head over now," he explained when their eyes met. Without another word, she stood, nodded and left Tibby's Bumlets close behind. 'Great Bum! Piss her off 'fore youse know her name,' he growled at himself. They ended up third in line.  
  
Taking two hundred papers, much to Weasel's surprise, the pair met up with the curly haired kid and headed back to 42nd Street.  
  
"We ain't tryin' the same t'ing as dis mornin', right? Dat won't be smart," the curly haired kid asked, as the trio approached the largest building on the block. "Anuddah t'ing, why's da skoit wit' us?" he added, shooting a glare at the new addition. She rolled her eyes and grinned back silently.  
  
"She's payin' me back for lunch. She might be useful so drop it," he friend warned, the tone of his voice clearly stating her presence was not up for discussion. The kid backed down after this.  
  
As if answering to a challenge, the girl's eyes lit up. "Do you dance?" she inquired, smiling widely at, the older boy. He nodded affirmatively. Waiting until a few more people walked by, she took his hands around her waist.  
  
"Just follow me until you pick up the steps," she instructed before launching into a lively tune. Snipeshooter helped keep the beat taking up Bumlets walking stick. Pretty soon a very large crowd developed. Snipeshooter collected the money as the other two performed dance after dance until all two hundred papers were gone.  
  
Noticing the papers were gone, the pair collapsed in a sweaty pile onto the steps of the nearest building, the girl on Bumlet's lap. Turning a very dark shade of red, she slid to the step beside him. "You'se got a name or do we just call ya 'Dancer Goil'?" Snipeshooter asked, handing Bumlets his walking stick.  
  
Before she could answer a massive brawl erupted down the street. As the crowd engulfed the three, she disappeared into it. Snipeshooter had to drag Bumlet's back to Kloppman's when the sun disappeared below the horizon.  
  
Bumlets found himself replaying that afternoon over and over in his mind for a long time. The way her shimmering blonde hair flew around her shoulders as he whirled her in circles. He smiled remembering the bright twinkle in her blue eyes when she sensed a challenge from Snipeshooter. Sitting up with a start, Bumlets smacked his forehead. 'What was her name? Son-of-a… I'se prolly seein' t'ings anyways. But it felt so real. Stop it, Bum,' he thought, falling back to sleep. 


	4. Dutchy N LAshes

*~*Want Ads*~*  
  
*~*Chapter Three*~*  
  
  
  
Watching Blink and Bumlets over the next few weeks, Dutchy found himself feeling insanely jealous of them. 'I'se happy for dem. Really, I am. But why can't dat be me? Aiight Dutch. Just git ya papes and move on. I'll worry 'bout my love life when I'se can afford to eat,' the golden haired, bespectacled young man stood in line at the Distribution Center, slamming down the money for one hundred and fifty papers then walked to his usual selling spot, ignoring the voices of his friends as they called after him. With his spot in sight, Dutchy had a revelation "Maybe a new place to sell where day ain't used ta seein' me would be better. Dat new library just opened up downtown," Dutchy reasoned, as his feet carried him to the new location.  
  
Reaching the library, Dutchy stood on the left corner of the bottom step, shouting out the "improved" headlines. Hours went by and he did okay, but he couldn't shake this feeling of impending doom. A wealthy man sneered in Dutchy's direction as the man passed him on the stairs. A scowl darkened his features as he watched the man walk down the street. People had been rude all day. He usually could deal with it without reacting but there was something different about that day. Selling a little over half the papes, Dutchy began wandering back to his regular spot. Hefting them onto his shoulder, Dutchy began whistling, heading back. Unfortunately his mind wasn't on where he was walking. Dutchy's foot made contact with something, which sent him sprawling to the ground ontop of whatever it was that he had tripped over. His glasses went flying off their perch on the tip of his nose. Groping around in the direction he felt the wind send them, he quickly found them and returned them to his nose.  
  
"You Idiot! This is the only dress I own," Dutchy was yanked back to reality when a shrill voice attacked him.  
  
'Sounds like nails on a chalk boahd', he grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the comment from leaving his mouth. An amused smirk curved his lips as she rattled on. Dutchy surveyed the damage he had inflicted to this young woman's dress; the entire front was soaking wet. 'It's too bad she's got an undershirt on,' he laughed inwardly, watching her try to rip him a new one, while wiping off her dress. "Look. I'se sorry. What book you got dere?" he asked, reaching for the large book she held in her left arm. He retrieved it from her grasp and read the title while she growled at him and continued to rail against his behavior.  
  
^~*^~*The Girl's Perspective^~*^~*  
  
It was such a beautiful day. She had decided to take advantage of the sunlight and gentle breeze. She had just borrowed 'Pride and Prejudice' for the tenth time sense the library had opened a year ago. She had brought a small jug of water. This turned out to be a mistake. As she lost herself into chapter two, she felt some one kick her elbow.  
  
Taken by surprise, she didn't have time to react. Her water ended up all over the front of her dress. Without looking up, the young woman proceeded to scream at the source of her problem. She couldn't believe how stupid one must be to trip over another human who was clearly in sight. She didn't try to hide. Finally looking up to see her assailant, her breath hitched in her throat for a second. He certainly had a harmless puppy dog charm about him. Remembering that this was the same young man who had tripped over her, the girl visibly toughened and began yelling at him. She only became more irate when it seemed he was finding her anger amusing. He reached into her arms and pulled out the book she was shielding from the water still.  
  
^~*^~*Dutchy's Perspective^~*^~*  
  
'She T'ink's she's scarin' me! She certainly has good taste in books, dough. Lemme see if I'se can yank her chain a little more. Changing sellin' spots wasn't so bad an idea after all, Dutchy-boy,' Dutchy laughed, taking her book and holding it above his head just to see what she'd do. This turned out to be a grave mistake. Before he knew what hit him, a blinding flash of pain erupted between his legs, and he was on the ground, holding himself to try to ease the pain. He almost blacked out. "Wha' da Hell was dat for? Hey get back 'ere!" Dutchy hollered regaining his strength as the girl stormed off, with the book tucked under her left arm. After climbing to his feet, Dutchy started after her. "You can' take a joke? What's ya problem? You got ya' book back! I was only playin'. Aw fuget it," he growled, following her for a few blocks but soon giving up. Dutchy turned back around, walking away.  
  
The next thing he knew, she was in his face again. "You can read? Pretty good for a street rat," rolling her eyes, the little snot, walked up to him and poked his firmly developed chest with a finger. The two stood glaring each other down, trying to make the other one flinch first. Neither would take the bait. "This is stupid, kindly remove yourself from the path please," the little snot, as Dutchy had begun to call her in his mind, tried to sound above his class. Observing her hands, which looked much older than her face, and sagging shoulders, Dutchy knew she was not as high brow as she'd like to have come off.  
  
"As books go, I find 'Pride and Prejudice' to be a sentimental farce of true feelings," he lied, wanting to get her more upset. 'Dutchy-boy you know you were sick with worry whether Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet would ever get together... Stop sounding like a pussy! It's no wonder she kicked you in the jewels. I'm surprised she found anything to kick,' he argued with himself, seeing the faces of the other newies, laughing at him for actually enjoying that book.  
  
"'Sentimental farce of true feelings'?" she repeated his words, astonished. "Have you read the same book? Jane Austin's words are the most inspired pieces of poetry ever. You must have no soul. What am I doin' wastin' me time around heah, anyways?" the girl bristled, slipping into her normal dialect because she had become careless.  
  
Stifling a laugh, Dutchy watched this contradictory young woman lose hger composure completely. 'She's damned cute... still can' stand her dough' he decided. "I'd enjoy fighting with you but I'se got papes ta sell. Sorry about the dress, Sweetface!" he called, walking away from her quickly.  
  
A/N: I'm dreadfully sorry this chapter took so long to get put up! Thanks for all the reviews and those of you who have assisted *coughCHELcough* I can't remember all of your names. I'm a horrible writer. Next chapter is somebody and Itey *grin* keep reading to find out who.... 


	5. Itey N Duchess

A/N: FINALLY another chapter. *dodges rotten fruit* I know I know. Thanks for bearing with me!! Okay I'll shut up and write. Itey's about to kick my ass if I don't start typing the chapter. I had assistance on how these two click. Thanks. You know who you are. Also Thanks for the reviews!  
  
  
~*Chapter 4: Itey N Duchess*~   
  
  
Snoddy, Pie Eater, Itey, and Boots had been selling for four hours. The news was conveniently scandalous that morning; "improving the truth" was fairly easy. With fifteen papers left between them, they decided to walk a few blocks south to try to rid themselves of the papers fast. There was a score to settle. "You'se jis gonna get beat again, son. Why put yaself t'rough dat?" Pie Eater warned, only half joking.   
  
" 'Son?' Aiight. Believe what you wan'. We'll see when da papes are gone. Blazing Inferno Engulfs Ellis Island! Thousands Presumed Dead! Thank you Ma'am. Page seven," Itey grinned warmly at the woman who just bought a pape.   
  
"If dey wan' ta be humiliated, that's deir business, Pie. Thank you, Sir," Boots spoke up, taking the coin a man had just given and handing the man a paper. The four were making their way to Central Park to settle the bet before lunch.   
  
"Factory in Jersey Blows up. Foul Play Suspected! What's 'humiliated'?" Pie asked, this last 'headline' managed to rid all them of the last papers. They stopped on a tiny expanse of grass they used as their field. Setting their earnings in their hats and hiding the hats in a hollow tree nearby, the new game began. Snoddy remembered to bring the football he had saved up for a few years back.   
  
"Made ta look like a jackass," Snoddy supplied the answer, tossing the ball to Itey who shot off like a bullet from a gun, running with it, only to be tackled by Pie Eater who took off with it in the other direction. "Somethin' you know about too well," he laughed at Pie Eater, intercepting the ball when Pie tossed it to Boots. With Boots hanging on his waist, trying to take him down, Snoddy passed the two trees designated as Pie Eater and Boots' end zone, spiking the ball. Snoddy cheered, his fists raised in triumph.   
  
Pie Eater used this opportunity to steal the ball and take off to the other end of the field. Itey raced to stop him, more successful than Boots had been in taking his opponent down. "You can get offa me anytime," Pie Eater growled, a smile on his face, belying the tone of his voice. Pie Eater lay on the ground on his stomach, the ball having been retrieved by Itey. 'His damned knees are sharp,' Pie Eater groaned after Itey had taken off with the ball. He was unable to move for another second.   
  
"Whatdya doin', layin' dere like a sack? Help me!" Boots shouted. Snoddy and Itey were tossing the ball between themselves, running back to the other end zone. Soon Itey was alone with the ball, not too far from the end zone. Making sure the others were watching, Itey spiked the ball as hard as he could then proceeded to holler and carry on as if he had just saved the world by scoring.   
  
Boots retrieved the ball this time, running behind Pie Eater, who kept Snoddy and Itey back. Boots quickly scored. Unlike Itey, Boots didn't explode with excitement simply because he scored.   
  
When the score was tied at twenty-eight, about 2 hours later, all four boys were getting pretty tired. "You'se give up yet?" Pie Eater challenged, resting his hands on his knees and panting heavily. The other three weren't in much better shape. In fact, Snoddy was nearly passed out on the grass a few feet from where Pie Eater stood.  
  
Gulping for air first, Itey spoke up, straightening his back, "Nevah!" Pulling Snoddy to his feet, Itey held the ball out for Snoddy to take. "C'mon! I ain't losin' ta dem again! Lunch isn't for anuddah t'irty minutes," he reasoned, as his friends stared blankly at him. "What?" he asked, staring from one friend to the next. They all had the same perplexed and exhausted expression.  
  
" 'What?', he says... We's tiahd, dat's what! And you'se crazy," answered Boots from the ground where he still lay sprawled out.   
  
"Aw. You'se no fun!" Itey laughed maniacally, running away with the ball; the other three still hadn't moved. Because he hadn't been watching where he was going, he never knew that he was racing toward his downfall.   
  
"Watch it!" an annoyed voice called from in front of him. It wasn't in front of him for long. The next thing Itey knew, he somersaulted over something big and sort of square, catching his ankle on the top wrung of a bench, Itey was able to see that was the object when he landed and looked behind him. A sharp, shooting pain centered on his ankle, which was still wedged between the rungs of the bench.   
  
The next sound he heard was not helping his disposition. "Still wanna mess around with this game or have you'se had enough?" Snoddy laughed, walking over to the bench. His other two friends were, practically crying with laughter. Itey kept his eyes closed, willing himself to disappear. It didn't happen. When he was able to take stock of the situation, Itey felt his foot being twisted and pushed from its perch in the bench.   
  
"Who da hell is doin' dat? STOP IT HURTS!" he exclaimed loudly, his voice muffled by the earth beneath it. The noise died down as his friends all stepped back, hiding the fact they were busy snickering at him. Had he known who was trying to free his ankle he would have had a coronary attack.   
  
"If you'se don't want my help, then forget it. I got better things ta do with my time," a voice almost sang in Itey's ears. Before anyone could react the source of the voice quickly left. Pie Eater and Snoddy managed to maneuver Itey's foot out of the bench's trap. His legs hit the ground, laying in the grass in a heap, he yelled at Boots to stop the girl before she got too far. As he ordered his friend into action, Itey attempted to stand, only to yelp out in pain, holding his ankle, and fall back to the ground. "What is it?" the voice asked, after Boots brought her back. Snoddy and Pie Eater helped Itey stand up, using one of them on each side as a crutch to ease the pain of his ankle, which was turning a nasty shade of purple unbeknownst to any of them. When his eyes found hers, his knees nearly fell from under him. If not for the two older boys him up, he'd be eating grass again. "Well?" she persisted, a grin tugging the corners of her mouth upward. This was getting ridiculous. If she had somewhere to be, she'd be annoyed. All four boys had taken their hats off, well Itey's had been removed by Snoddy and placed in Itey's hand. This was definitely a sight.   
  
"I believe he means ta say t'anks and ask you'se for your name sos he can t'anks you'se propahly, miss," Boots supplied, it seemed his fallen friend had lost his voice, along with his mind, if you asked the youngest of the four.  
  
"Call me Duchess. It's a long story, so don't ask," she spit in her hand and held it out to each in turn. All of them smiled in relief. She was different from most of the girls they knew. Most girls would gag in disgust if one of them tried to spitshake. As they shook her hand, each introduced himself.  
  
"Do you play football, Duchess?" Itey asked, noticing she wore slacks instead of a skirt which could trip her up if she ran. His eyes took in every detail of her appearance. 'If she says she plays ball, I think I'm in love,' Itey mused, shifting his vision as she smirked knowingly at him.   
  
Rolling his eyes, Snoddy cut in, "Pants or not, she's a girl!" Pie Eater nodded in agreement. Duchess decided right then and there. These two had to be taught a lesson.   
  
"Not really. But I could try. Want me ta finish ya game foah ya?" she smiled warmly, lying through her teeth, not daring to look at either of the poor idiots who were about to lose to a girl. Truth be told, she was good at any sport she tried, do to her training in the martial arts, which doesn't depend on being some ape with no brain who could bash through things. Duchess wasn't very tall or built big but she made up for it being quick and deadly accurate. "I pick the teams, though" she added. Duchess was determined to show the bigger boys just what a girl was capable of. She would also show herself something before the game was over.   
  
Setting Itey on the bench he had fallen over, Snoddy and Pie Eater joined Boots and Duchess in the middle of the small field. "Look, miss, It jis don't feel right, playin' ball wit' a girl, you'se know?" Pie Eater voiced what was going through his and Snoddy's mind at the moment. He stared back at her, massaging the back of his neck nervously, hoping she'd back down before he was forced to hurt her.   
  
Holding up her hand, Duchess looked the taller boy in the eyes and responded "Look at me I'm tremblin'. Take the kick off, Snoddy. It's me and Boots against you'se two. Okay?"  
  
"Your funeral. Aiight you'se hoid da lady," Snoddy backed down first. Fine, if she wanted a broken arm or something that was her business. Standing in his end zone, Snoddy kicked the ball as hard as he could down the field where Pie Eater was waiting for it. It didn't get there. Leaping into the air, Duchess cradled the ball to her chest, coming back to Earth, running toward the opposing end zone. With both Pie Eater and Snoddy too close for comfort, Boots took the ball, making a touch down seconds later.  
  
"28-35! HA!" Boots spiked the ball and danced around a little in celebration. Unfortunately for Boots, Snoddy had taken the ball and was heading down to their end zone. Duchess jumped into action, running after him, almost possessed. Wrapping her arms around his knees as she dove to the ground, the two of them landed in a heap, Pie Eater recovered the ball. "Dammit!" Boots hollered, heading Pie Eater off, or trying.   
  
With Boots hanging off of his belt, Pie Eater began inching his way closer to the end zone. Everything went in slow motion. That is until a war cry could be heard on his right side. It seemed that Duchess had evaded Snoddy then caught up to Pie Eater. She leapt into the air for the second time that day and took him down, Boots with him, stealing the ball. Quicker than any of them thought possible, Duchess had the ball. How? She didn't know. And then she was off to the other side of the field, Snoddy trying to catch up to her. He just wasn't quick enough. Seconds later, the ball was spiked and they had come out ahead again. "Guys? Is my foot s'posed to be poiple?" Itey conveniently broke up the game from the sidelines.   
  
Running back over to their comrade, stranded on the sidelines, the game was quickly forgotten by at least two of them. "No it's not. He needs a doctor," Duchess spoke up, at his side in seconds.   
  
Still bitter about his loss, Pie Eater sneered at her "No shit, Sherlock". Boots and Snoddy helped, the now crippled, Itey onto his feet. "Let's git the gimp back ta Kloppy. He can fix anyt'ing," he growled, taking Itey's arm from Boots. Snoddy's mood was not much better. Both could not bring themselves to look at either of the victors, a girl and a boy half their size.   
  
Arriving at the Lodging House, Duchess stood in the lobby, feeling extremely awkward. Boots brought Kloppman to the bunk room, where Itey was laid up. Noticing Duchess was not around; Boots left the room and ran to the lobby. "You'se can come up. Itey's bein' looked ovah now," he reassured her, dragging her by her arm.   
  
Inside the bunkroom, Kloppman was wrapping up the injured ankle. "You shoulda come home soonah. What was da ho'd up? Lemme guess. You'se wantin' ta try ta beat dem, hmm? Well, was it woit' it?" Kloppman teased, pretending to scold Itey after the ankle was properly taken care of. Snoddy and Pie Eater stood on the other side of Iteys bunk, still brooding over their loss.  
  
"Coitinly was. We beat 'em!" he grinned widely, carefully avoiding the glares of his friends. They all knew the truth. A girl had won the game for Itey. He hadn't done it himself. Said girl had entered the room with Boots, all four pairs of eyes silently told Itey he had better fess up or face a humiliation worse than death. "Okay, maybe I didn't help much," he conceded, turning a deep shade of crimson. "Maybe I sat on the sidelines while the game was won wit'out me," he finished, the others nodding their heads in approval.   
  
"Maybe? Boy, you've done lost ya mind. She's da one dat won da game. Beat Snoddy and Pie Eater cold, we did," Boots chimed in, giddy laughter erupting from his mouth, watching Pie Eater and Snoddy's faces turn the exact shade of red Itey's had become.   
  
Kloppman surveyed the girl standing beside Boots, not much taller than the boy was himself. "Seein' as how you saved Itey's behind from losing, I'll make an exception. You two have five minutes then the 'No Girls in the Bunkroom' rule is reinstated. Come on, boys. Give Itey some time with his savior," the old man, laughed, winking discreetly at a bedridden, red faced kid, currently trying to chew his bottom lip off, along with his knaki colored suspenders. Itey's three 'friends', or so they called themselves, were red-faced with cackling laughter as they were ushered out by Kloppman.   
  
'This is stupid. Say something'. Anythin'! Teller how goigis she is... how great a football player she is. Thank her fah savin' yer ass. Don't jis let 'er walk outta heah,' the young man's mind rattled on, urging him to speak. Yet he could not seem to get the message to his brain. The two stared in silence, waiting for the other to speak. Without waiting to be asked, Duchess pulled a new by chair along side Itey's bunk, sitting down heavily.   
  
"Looks like yer gonna pull through, kid. Dat's a nasty sprain ya got there, dough. Glad it ain't happen ta me. Next time watch where you'se runnin' aiight?" Duchess grinned warmly at him.   
  
Laughing a little too loudly, Itey tried to stand on his ankle. He fell forward, in agony again. Duchess caught him, helping him back in bed. "You're gonna hang around us from now on, right? What I mean is... uhm, I'd like to show off my football skills after dis ankle is back ta normal again," he rambling endlessly.  
  
"Shoah. Why not? You seem harmless enough. Especially all crippled like that. I should get going, though. Seeya around," Duchess spit in her hand, shook Itey's then quickly left for home. 'He was a nice guy. Hope he's a good loser,' she mused, looking forward to beating him when that ankle healed. 


	6. Mush N Hades

*~*~*Want Ads Chapter 5- Mush N Hades*~*~*  
  
Leaving Meddah's, Mush couldn't wipe the grin from his face. It had been a great party for Racetrack's birthday. A few of the fellows were now taking Racetrack to one of those places of ill repute, okay, whorehouse. Mush laughed to himself when he thought of the look on Racetrack's face after finding out he was "guaranteed a piece a ass," as Spot so eloquently put it.   
  
Mush had declined going claiming that "unlike da Boithday Boy, I'se don't need ta pay fah dat". Lying in his bunk, Mush was reminded of just how alone he actually was. It had been around half passed ten when he left the party and he'd been lying in bed for an hour, making it nearly midnight. Tossing his clothes on carelessly, Mush exited through the window. Telling Kloppman, who had come up to check on him, that he may not be back that night. From there, Mush wandered around the city, finding himself in Bottle Alley.   
  
Checking his pockets to make sure he had enough for at least one drink, Mush walked into the first pub he reached. Mush sat at the far end of the bar, watching chaos erupt. A waitress brought over his coke, after all he didn't look old enough to be his own age, fifteen.  
  
"Wha' da hell d'ya mean, I'se had 'nuff? I'se da judge a dat!" chaos, in the form of a girl with auburn locks and dark brooding eyes, slurred. Her eyes seemed to glow red as hot coals with her anger. Mush didn't know how she had gotten drunk, considering she didn't look any older than him. The answer hollered back.  
  
"Dammit, You'll git me thrown outta this place for good, if you can't shut yer trap!" a sailor slapped the girl. The next moment, she was swinging from the sailors thick neck, looking like a cape.   
  
Before any more damage could come to the girl, Mush downed his coke, as if it were a shot of vodka, stood and marched over to the pair, wrenching the girl from her perch and carrying her out to the back alley amid shouts of 'Good lucky, boy. She's a real wildcat. Let 'im have her. I can get another girl easy enough'. Once outside, Chaos, Mush had given her that name in his mind, hadn't calmed down at all. "Relax! Dat guy is gone. Shh. Sit still," he urged her as she continued to beat his chest and the air.  
  
"Don't touch me or I'se gonna rip yer 'nads off! I swears it," she nearly screeched, pushing away from him. Seconds later, Chaos was bent over heaving her guts out. Mush held her hair and rubbed her back. "Why are you bein' so nice, anyhow?" she managed to croak out between wretches. For an answer, Mush quickly located two barrels of water, one warm and the other freezing. Without warning, Mush gripped Chaos' head by her hair securely and dunked her in the freezing then warm water and back until he felt she was sufficiently sobered. While this was going on, Chaos continued to scream.  
  
Hearing the police whistle, Mush threw Chaos over his shoulder and took off for Duane Street.   
  
As he neared the Lodging House, Chaos fought her way out of his arms and ran away. Mush was too tired and quite fed up, so he let her go. 'She shoah was cute, dough. Like a cat tossed in da East Rivah. Fighting mad and all wet. Bet she cleans up nice,' he grinned, climbing through the window and into his bunk. Falling asleep, Mush's mind was filled with her image. 


End file.
